Aunt Sharon enslaved

CHAPTER THREE.

"No, and that's final!"

"But, Mother…"

"Diane, I told you. We're not going back to the city until I'm sure your aunt is doing well. She hasn't been… well, herself since your uncle's death. She's my sister, and I'm not going to leave her. You'd understand if you had a sister, believe me."

Diane shuffled her feet, pouting, fighting back the tears burning in her eyes. How could she tell her mother the real reason why she wanted to go into town and catch the first bus back home.

How could she tell her mother her own cousin had raped her… raped her and then had beaten her and made her enjoy what he'd done to her? Even now as she sat there on the long couch, her pert little ass sinking into the overstuffed cushions, Diane felt her flesh puckering up into goosepimples. Diane smoothed her fingers over her pleated white tennis skin, feeling her nipples starting to swell and itch invitingly against her bra. This kind of reaction had to stop. How could she be feeling that tingly sensation between her legs when her cousin had beaten her so savagely? How could she be thinking these thoughts about Billy, thoughts that made her cunt sweat and swell against her crotch, when he had roped her like an animal, then raped her? It was all she could do to disguise the chafe marks on her wrists, hiding the beating marks from her mother and aunt.

"And besides, Diane, I think being out here is good for you – good for both of us."

Diane had the creepy feeling that her mother was going to suggest they live here. She squirmed her hot little ass against the sagging sofa cushions.

"Now, I don't want to hear any more about this," Sharon Farnsworth said, trying to put a note of severity in her voice. "And, one more thing," she added as Diane got up sullenly and started for her room. "Sit down, dear."

Diane thumped back down.

"I wish you'd dress in something more… conservative," Sharon said, nodding at the short-short tennis skin. "This isn't L.A. There are men around here, including your cousin Billy, who might think you were another kind of girl."

Diane flushed to the roots of her hair. It was as if her mother had directly accused her of fucking her cousin. Her fingers grew icy and trembled.

"Everybody dresses like this, Mother. It's the style."

"It leaves you… exposed. Something more conservative."

"Well, then maybe I could go around with no panties at all. That should excite everyone around here," Diane said, getting up quickly and rushing from the room.

"Diane… please…"

Sharon stood there in the living room, clenching and unclenching her fists. Oh, she had done everything wrong! Biting her lip, she wondered where it was she was going wrong with the girl. They had been so close once, especially when her husband passed away. And now a wail was there, blocking her from her own daughter. She could have screamed, smoothing her fingers over her dress. Still, Sharon regained her calm, sighing and turning.

Perhaps it was because of the strange feelings she had been having lately when her nephew was around that had put her on edge. She was a mature woman, a woman who knew in her mind that love-making was just out of the question for her. She had a daughter to raise still, and neighbors and family to contend with. But suddenly when she arrived here and saw Billy, she saw an image of her late husband flash before her. Again and again she tried to put his image from her mind. But Sharon found her eyes wandering to him, drinking in his muscular form.

She closed her eyes until the tickling, burning itch that had been there all through the interview with her daughter had faded some. When she moved her hip slightly, the velvety surfaces rubbed together and more hot juice seeped out. No! This had to stop! Perhaps Diane was right. Perhaps they should leave and go back to L.A. There would be fewer complications, less temptations for her.

"Aunt Sharon. You wanna come down to the barn? I've got some things you might be interested in."

Billy had exploded into her thoughts suddenly like a bomb. Sharon nearly jumped from her skin, barely hiding her arousal from the young stud. He was wearing a thin white cotton shirt opened to his navel. Sharon could see the sheen of sweat on his chest and shoulders through the material.

"Well, your mother is coining back from town soon and…"

"Come on," he insisted, grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her toward the front door. "Nobody's gonna complain. I think you'd really like this, a kind of surprise and all that."

There was something in his voice that sounded strained, Sharon thought. But he was so handsome, so like her husband had been when she first met him. Past and present fused, confusing the attractive thirty-six-year-old. She followed Billy, looking nervously over her shoulder, to make sure Diane didn't seem them. HOW foolish, she thought, rushing down the porch steps and shaking several strands of hair from her face. She was doing nothing wrong.

Billy talked little, picking up his pace. They passed the first barn, the one used more frequently. Right now her handsome, muscular nephew was going to show her something in that strange, deserted building her sister had mentioned was rarely if ever used.

"See? I've fixed it… well, me and some of the boys around here," Billy said, stopping at the top of a small hillock and pointing to the freshly painted building.

Shielding her eyes from the setting sun, Sharon did notice fresh paint on the barn. Some of the chinks in the walls had been repaired as well. How odd! And yet none of the fields surrounding the building were cultivated. What on earth could Billy be using this for? Helen had said nothing about this.

"Come on."

He helped her down the steep incline, his fingers feeling terribly warm, almost scalding hot against her wrists. Sharon thought about going back. Thoughts of her and Billy doing something rather carnal in the barn flashed through her mind frequently as they approached the building. There was a padlock on the front doors, a lock that had been opened earlier.

Sharon looked at her nephew, then walked in, smelling the sharp, pungent odor of gasoline and fresh paint. It was rather dark in there. At first, she could barely make out anything except Billy behind her. Then, as her eyes opened to the dim light, Sharon realized something was terribly amiss.

There were strange, frightening-looking instruments on the wall – whips, riding crops, straps. There were pulleys screwed into the overhead crossbeams.

The door slammed shut behind Sharon, making her wheel around and look at her nephew with large, frightened eyes. Billy was smirking at her, standing there, his hands on his hips.

"I know you've been wantin' to fuck me. I've seen it, Aunt Sharon. I've seen you lookin' at my crotch, probably wonderin' how hung I am," he said with a laugh.

Sharon went white with humiliation. She shook her head from side to side, opening her mouth to speak. But her embarrassment was so great nothing came out.

"That's okay. You don't have to talk. I know what you want, you're gonna git it… in spades."

"No, you're wrong!"

He was laughing at her, pointing and laughing at her as if she were some kind of freak! Flushing red, Sharon angrily strode toward the door, her fingers clenched into fists. She expected him to step aside, to let her by. But instead, Billy grabbed her by the wrist, wheeling her around and striking her hard across the cheek. Sharon screamed, stunned by the violent blow. Reeling back, she rubbed one hand over her injured flesh, staring wildly at her nephew. Billy was still smiling. But the smile had turned into an evil grin. She could tell he had enjoyed hitting her, and would enjoy doing more of the same.

"Billy, don't. You don't know what you're doing," Sharon stammered, her eyes darting about the building, searching for someway out. She was losing control quickly. "I'm your aunt! If you've got a problem, we can talk about it like family."

Billy came at her like a whirlwind, his fingers gripping her shoulders and pushing her back. Sharon stumbled, her legs becoming entangled. She fell with a scream, her hands breaking her fall. Sharon felt Billy tearing at her dress, ripping the bodice, then tearing the sleeves from her shoulders.

In another moment she found herself stripped to the waist, her sandals having slipped from her feet in the process. Screaming, beating at him with her fists, Sharon kicked her feet back and forth, hammering her heels into his shoulders.

Billy liked her wildness, ducking from her blows while pulling the remains of her torn dress from her writhing body. Sharon squealed, finding herself in her bra and panties. She reddened even more, embarrassed horribly at the knowledge that she was being stripped by her own nephew.

Regaining some strength, the woman scrambled to her feet, crouching down and rushing toward the barn door once more. Billy grabbed her again, wheeling her around, then twisting her arm back against her spine until her elbow felt as if it was going to crack apart. Sharon screamed, the hot shot of pain racing up her arm and blasting into her brain.

Her knees buckled and she sank to the floor, tears welling up holly in her eyes. What was he going to do to her? She was his own aunt. And now… now he was stripping her, indicating he was going to… to fuck her! Her fantasies were coming true, Sharon realized, but not quite in the manner she thought they would.

Billy eased the pressure on her elbow, turning her around like a puppet dangling from a string. With one move, he stripped the bra from her body. Sharon screamed again, throwing her arms around her naked, pendulous tits while backing away from her nephew.

How could she run out of there, almost naked? What would her sister say if she saw her? It would break Helen's heart – if she were to believe her! Sharon shivered, closing one leg over the other. She had to reason with him in spite of what was happening now.

"Billy, please, for the family's sake, don't do this to me," she said, a tear running down one cheek.

"It's just 'cause of the family I'm doing it." Sharon felt a draft chill her, rustling through her cunt-hair, raising gooseflesh underneath. He would hurt her. She could tell that from the way he had stripped her. She had to get away. Billy walked up to her, knocking her hands from her tits, sliding his warm fingers up and down her thighs. It was happening now. She had to break away! She just had to.

"No!"

Wrenching free, Sharon lunged for the door yet again. Billy laughed at her, grabbing the woman by her hair and pulling to slow her down. He held her tight, pulling her blonde hair until her head was drawn back as far as it would go. She screamed wildly, throwing her arms back, clawing at her nephew with her nails like an wildcat.

But Billy wasn't to be put off, bring her down, then reaching around and tearing open the front of her panties. She felt the shredded briefs sliding down her thighs, around her ankles. She was naked, stark naked in front of her own nephew! The thought horrified her) more than the possibility of what he was going to do with her next.

"No, don't!"

He reached around, sticking two fingers into her cunt. Startled by the rude finger-fuck, Sharon screamed, her knees shaking against one another. Her belly and thigh muscles clenched, cramping while she felt those invading fingers plow deeper into her. Throwing back ha head, the woman felt something else take over in her body.

Oh God, God, she was feeling that hunger that had stirred in her earlier. In spite of the horror, she found herself grinding her thighs against his hand and spearing fingers. Billy laughed, lowering his head and biting down hard on the nape of her neck. Sharon threw her head back like a wild mare in rut, her knees failing her completely. It was only because Billy was behind her that she didn't collapse to the floor. Again he jerked his fingers down into her cunt-hole, twisting them around while rubbing his knuckles against her clit. Sharon became so excited she spurted piss onto his hand.

"Damn!"

He cursed, jerking his fingers out and shoving them against her lips. Sharon gagged, turning her head away while trying to lunge from her nephew. When she refused again, he squeezed her ass, shoving a knee into her back. Sharon groaned, opening her mouth. Billy shoved his piss-soiled fingers into her mouth, making her lick them. Sharon choked on the taste, feeling her belly turn over and over while the sour bile rose in her throat. The taste and smell made her retch. Billy laughed, obviously pleased things had turned out that way.

"Goddamned toilet; that's what you are, and that's what you're gonna be."

Grabbing her hair, Billy pulled her forward. Sharon followed, stumbling haltingly, her hands still beating against his fingers. She half-ran behind him, her head down, her hair tearing painfully from her scalp. Her tits jigged and dangled, slapping together while her nephew pulled her toward the center of the barn.

He had switched on a yellow overhead light that barely illuminated the space around them. Pushing her down to the floor, Billy stepped forward, pressing one heel on her wrist and pinning her to the floor. Rolling her head to one side, Sharon saw a long pole resting on the barn floor. Reaching down, Billy rolled the pole under Sharon's head, then ordered her to stretch out her hands. She did as she was told, trembling with fear as she felt her wrists resting against the rough ends of the rod. Billy kept an eye on her, backing to one stall wall where several lengths of hemp hung from wooden pegs.

Taking two lengths, he returned, slipping the first around her left wrist and cinching Sharon's hand to the pole with a double knot. He moved to another hand, securing it to the rod similarly. Moving her head about, Sharon felt a cold and metallic rubbing against her neck. It was, she discovered, an iron eyehook driven into the wood.

"Now, you ain't gonna be so anxious to run around and get away, right?"

"Billy…"

Tern blinded her. Blinking them away, she saw the pulleys overhead. Billy was busy threading a longer length of rope through the double met, bringing down the bite end until it was brushing against her non. Sharon moaned, turning her head away as he slipped the free cad into the metal hook of the rod, securing it firmly. He said nothing further, pulling on the other end and slowly drawing Sharon and the pole up from the floor.

"Uh!"

She scrambled to her feet, soon finding herself standing on tip-toe. Still Billy pulled the rope near the wall, raising the pole until Sharon found herself swinging over the floor. Her tits flattened, her arm muscles tensed and stretched weight of her dangling body. Sharon let her head fall back as Billy secured the rope on a metal rod driven into the barn wall, making her legs kicking slowly back and forth. He had her like a trapped animal now, hanging there like a piece of meat in a butcher shop. What was he going to do?

He came up slowly, his boots shuffling through the hay. Billy stood there, examining his naked, hanging aunt. A tremor twitched in his cheeks as he swallowed hard, his eyes narrowing with lust. Sharon could see a definite outline against the front of his faded Levi's. He was growing hard just looking at her hanging there helplessly, her wrists roped to the ends of the pole.

Reaching down into his pants pocket, he pulled out a small silver lighter, flipping open the top and flicking the tiny flint wheel. Sparks flew out several times before the wick finally caught fire. The orange flame shivered in the draft, bending forward toward her.

"No, don't… don't burn me, Billy," she whispered.

Billy walked up to her, stopping within two feet and raising the lighter to her cunt. Sharon could feel the heat curling into her pussy, pricking at her clit while her blonde pussy-hairs tinged black under the flame's attack. Throwing back her head, the woman let out a shrill, her cries bouncing off the barn walls as her torture began.